Tea For A Chipped Cup
by Pandora's Teapot
Summary: Post-curse world that is still ebbing and flowing between realities. The good guys are clear, the bad guys are clearer, but what about the grey characters? With Grace a little unsettled by his madness, Jefferson has taken refuge with Mr Gold and Belle, steadily building a friendship with them both and dealing with his past. Assumes Belle was kept prisoner in Wonderland by Regina.


**Tea For A Chipped Cup**

By Pandora.

**1.**

"There needs be something good about us!" Jefferson cried, his voice raised and laced with desperation. The man opposite to whom he spoke considered him with narrowed eyes, piercing and clever. Since magic had returned, Jefferson had noted the steady sinking of the deep brown that those eyes had been, watching as it was replaced day by day with a more empty, metallic shimmer. Most of the time, he seemed unchanged – the same Mr Gold that had masqueraded along with the façade of this world he and the Queen had trapped them in. Except for those eyes…and the little moments of hostility and conniving that increasingly penetrated his demeanour. Those were changes Jefferson saw and didn't much like. He let the emotion subside, his posture calming as he took a step closer to Mr Gold.

"Light in the darkness," he explained with a hopefulness for something he could never again be, "a sanity to the madness. Don't let her become like us, I beg of you. Preserve that one, little glow of good that connects us, you and I, before it flickers out forever and we are lost in the same hell as the Queen."

Of course he spoke of the Beauty, the one that had been lost and found in the most unlikely and terrible of places, and in being found had been lost to Rumpelstiltskin. She was the woman who was forever lost and found, Jefferson thought. In this world, Belle had been found again, by them both. Brother and mad friend, master and lover, they both laid claim to her heart in their own ways. She asked so little of them, and yet at times it seemed too much for Jefferson and Mr Gold to simply get along. There had been jealousy and contention at first, but now it had become something deeper, more important. Now they rivalled over her very nature.

"Am I to deny her own request?" Mr Gold asked straightforwardly, not wishing to argue with the mad man. There were a great number of grievances and little annoying…things…about the Hatter that he could poke and dig at, but Jefferson's endless concern for Belle was not one of them. Indeed, since the curse had begun to shatter around them and war with the Queen had become an inevitable reality, there were more than a few times that Rumpelstiltskin had breathed a sigh of relief to know that there was more than just one pair of eyes watching over her. Jefferson was right, of course, Belle was the light that bound them all and kept the two sorcerers from descending into their own private oblivions. But she had asked this of him, and he had never been particularly good at denying her the things she desired.

"Yes," Jefferson replied frankly, gesturing emphatically with fingers that were held as rigid as claws, "and they call me mad! Yes! Yes, man! Yes! Deny her!"

"You are mad, Jefferson," Mr Gold reminded him sympathetically, cautiously. It was true. The man had never been particularly aligned in the mind, even in the simpler blissful days between Alice and his entrapment in Wonderland when he had run carefree through the woods and played tea-party with his daughter. A wretched combination of empathy and self-pity rose in Gold's chest…there had been blissful days with Bae too, between the vice like grips of his own curse. He knew what it was to lose a child to the maddening power of magic. No matter how good the intention, all magic came with a price.

"You love her, I know, and few have genuinely given you the benefit of that doubt," Jefferson scolded boldly, refusing to acknowledge the sting of Gold's words, "but love has blinded you both. You must deny her this."

"Why should I?" Mr Gold hissed, that shimmering flicker of golden flame in the metallic darkness flashing in his eyes. Though his fingers twitched, ready to reach for the Hat if he had to, it was compassion that flooded Jefferson as the challenging glare of Rumpelstiltskin glimmered over him. How tragic, he thought, that this man he could otherwise see himself loving and respecting as a brother and friend, was cursed to be the fabled Beast, the Dark One. How more so that one such as the Beauty herself could love him anyway.

"Because if you give in and grant her magic of her own," Jefferson implored, the kindest of warning in his tone that Mr Gold had ever known, "she will become everything that she hates about you."

**2.**

There were two types of prisoner in Wonderland: those with their head, and those without. Generally, the lucky ones that remained intact had the good fortune to have never met raw cruelty of the Queen of Hearts, a frighteningly disfigured witch who spoke in deathly whispers. But a handful – and they were so few that you could indeed count them on a single hand – were such delicate hostages that even one as powerful and deranged as the monarch of Wonderland understood their value. Jefferson had not been one of those prisoners, the line of shiny scar tissue around his throat testimony to his betrayal and the fate that had befallen him. But Belle had been.

Often, she had wondered a combination of things that always came back to two gnawing questions: why had Rumpelstiltskin, in all his infinite power, never been able to find her and so believed her dead; and why had Jefferson remembered his life while she had not? For the longest time since waking from the bleak, memory-less sleep of the curse, it had tormented her, and neither Jefferson nor Mr Gold had the answers she sought. There was no doubt in her mind that she had been imprisoned in Wonderland, for she had horrifyingly clear memories of a world more poisonous than any of the Queen's apples, and more intriguing than all of the mysteries that surrounded her master. But Jefferson had remembered, and she had not. Jefferson had lost his head and she had not. Jefferson continued to descend into madness, but she did not. Somehow, she had escaped something of that world of consuming, punishing insanity. Otherwise, like Jefferson, she would have been free of Wonderland and left with her memories to suffer, just as he had. But she had forgotten along with everyone else, and when she woke up – though the trials and tribulations of her captivity had left their scathing mark – she had not quite lost her mind as Jefferson had. Not quite.

But then one day, after a long and gruelling struggle against the Queen – one of the oh, so many, she had endured in these past few years since the curse had steadily continued to loosen its hold – they had returned. Jefferson had been frighteningly silent, glancing her way for only a second before slinking away to hide his turmoil and his exhaustion, clutching the velveteen hat-bag to his side dismally. His clothes had been tattered and marked with the burns of magic, and Belle grieved for him in knowing how much his power pained him. But it had been the expression on Mr Gold's face as he reluctantly met her eyes that told her they had found something terrible.

"Tell me," Belle had pressed immediately. Gold and Jefferson exchanged glances, and Belle saw her master shake his head sternly at the tall madman. This only served to concern her more, and Belle grasped Mr Gold's sleeve with an urgent tug, demanding to know what it was that they kept from her, that had left them both so grim.

"No," he had admonished her, pulling back his arm abruptly and disappearing upstairs. Belle watched after him for a moment before turning to Jefferson, her mouth gaping and already forming the words to a question he would not be the one to answer. Awkwardly, the Hatter grasped his strangely shaped case to his chest and darted away towards his room, slipping behind the door and fastening the lock before Belle could speak. This was not like them. Since Mr Gold had bought magic back into the world, he had rarely kept a thing from her anymore. And Jefferson! He was her brother, a fellow captive of Wonderland, never in all the time she had known him had be ever been secretive towards her. Without a doubt, whatever it was that they had uncovered had something to do with her. Well, Belle thought, she would not be kept in the dark. As fast as her legs could carry her, she ran after Mr Gold, her feet tapping out a quick, gentle rhythm as they climbed the stairs. He would not be allowed to hide from her this time.

But he hadn't tried to hide, not really. As she slipped into their room, Belle had been surprised to find him sitting on the bed waiting for her. Ah, so he was learning. She paused at the door for a moment, her eyes wandering over him. It had been a lifetime ago since she had seen him so burdened…the last time it had been right before he announced her banishment from the Dark Castle to her. Pushing the painful memory away defiantly, Belle approached and clambered onto the bed, sitting cross-legged beside him. She didn't need to speak, he knew she was too far a cry from the bright eyed, naïve girl he had bargained for all those years ago to keep secrets anymore. She had grown, and with every experience the allure of her beautiful heart had blossomed. The thought of the metaphor made him wince…Belle, his beauty, had no heart.

Wonderland was a realm as twisted as the woman who ruled it and almost exclusively inhabited by those unfortunate souls she had taken prisoner for any particular idle crime, insult or offence that happened to take her fancy. Most she executed with the simple command '_off with his head_', dooming her victims to live forever detached from their bodies, aware and feeling every moment as though they were still alive. Their bodies would be assimilated by Wonderland and turned into creatures of intrigue that served only the bidding of the Queen of Hearts, while their heads gathered and piled deep in the bowels of her dungeons to wail their misery at one another, their pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. Others, like Jefferson, had their head restored to their body and were sentenced to endure the consuming, punishing insanity of Wonderland at the pleasures and whims of its Queen. This, Belle knew, was the worst sufferable penalty in the land, for she was a crueller queen than even Regina and no pleasure or whim came from her without unspeakable malice.

But then there were prisoners like Belle, prisoners of real value to the Queen of Hearts, prisoners that gave her her name. These special hostages got to keep their heads, but in return lost something far more precious: their heart. At the centre of an immense, labyrinthine maze, a stone vault inscribed with her heart shaped sigil imprisoned her most valuable captives simply by housing their still beating hearts in small wooden chests. It was a bittersweet deal. The magic of the vault ensured that nothing in Wonderland could harm the prisoner, for they were too important to her Majesty to be lost or degraded, but such protection came with a terrible cost. Isolation, invisibility, eternity – never again to speak to or touch another living soul until the day the Queen of Hearts bargained them away. There were few captives of Wonderland that she valued enough to forsake her amusement, but when her hated adversary Regina, monarch of the Faraway Land, had come to her with a token to offer, she couldn't refuse. There was only being in all existence she hated more than Regina, and that was without doubt the Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin.

It had been a monstrous trade between foes, negotiated and battled for weeks before an agreement was settled upon. The Vault of Hearts for the ultimate bargaining chip, the beautiful young woman who had brought the Beast to his knees. But what the Queen of Hearts didn't know was that Regina was far from being a woman of her word. She had remembered what Jefferson had told her about the rule of the hat that provided a portal of entry into Wonderland: the same number of people through the Looking Glass must return, or none would. How could she deliver Belle to the Queen of Hearts and still return home alone? Certainly not by rescuing Jefferson! And besides, she couldn't quite justify giving away her prize, her one up on Rumpelstiltskin, for a simple trinket of curiousity like the vault. Oh, but how she _wanted_ it! A queen, she had reasoned, should always get what she wants, and so Regina thought carefully about how she might obtain the vault in the least messy way whilst still keeping Belle in her possession but as far from the reaching sights of Rumpelstiltskin as possible. And then, all at once, she had it. To anyone watching, two had walked through the Looking Glass that day, and yet only one had returned. It had to seem real, believable to a woman who dealt in hearts by trade, only an enchantment to echo the action of the girl's heart would do. Before they stepped into Wonderland, the evil Queen had plunged her spider-like fingers into Belle's chest and withdrawn her fist full with delicate organ. They had to be quick now, the heart wouldn't last long outside of the vault. Placing a protective spell around it and leaving it in the Hall of Doorways, Regina had pushed Belle through the Looking Glass, wagered and negotiated her terms, before retreating from Wonderland hastily with her prize.

"Only one passed through the Looking Glass," Mr Gold explained carefully, gently, to Belle, her eyes wide with horror as she began to understand, "because she kept part of you here, the most important part."

So that's why Jefferson had remembered and she hadn't. That's why Rumpelstiltskin hadn't been able to find her, even though he had searched the Faraway Land, and Wonderland too. She had been split in half, existing as a half-life captive in two worlds…isolated and invisible for always. Wonderland had not been touched by the curse, but it had sensed it like a sickness, spitting up the prisoners from the Faraway Land before they drew it in. Jefferson had been plucked out of one hell and into another, his severed head dooming him to retain memories of every horror, everything lost, every madness he had ever known. It had spat Belle up too, but the curse acted on the heart, and her heart was in the Faraway Land. So she was put to sleep with everyone else.

"It's impossible!" Belle cried, grasping his shoulders and clinging to him desperately, "I must have my heart! How could I not? How could I feel anything? How could I love you?"

The fear and disbelief in her beautiful emerald eyes was heartbreaking. Mr Gold gathered her trembling body in his arms, rocking back and forth a she wept and beat her fists against him. More than anything, he wanted to shield her from this and everything, but he knew it was impossible. Belle had been an unexpected hiccup in his plan more than once. He couldn't help but acknowledge that all of her suffering had been inextricably linked to her association with him.

"The enchantment cast before the Queen took you to Wonderland," he explained in a voice that was low and quiet, "it mimics the heart in every way, so that not even the owner can tell that it is missing. Everything you feel, everything you have ever felt since that day, is real, Belle. It just doesn't reside within you."

She stopped crying, suddenly still and silent in his arms. Mr Gold felt her breathing in a slow, steady rhythm against him. He could even feel the mock heartbeat. It was cruel and cold to know the truth. There would be no stopping him, he had already decided what to do.

"I'm still her prisoner then, aren't I?" Belle asked, her voice small but brave in spite of the looming fear that engulfed her at the thought. Mr Gold stroked her hair, ready and knowing that his answer would rob her of the sense of freedom she had cherished since Jefferson had released her and sent her back into his protection.

"Yes. You are. But not for long."

**3.**

There is a certain kinship that binds those touched by Wonderland, an understanding between souls that have had their most private thoughts invaded, their fear exploited, their sanity turned inside out. Even if you survived and somehow managed to find a way out – and somehow was an understatement, for there were only 3 ways in and out of Wonderland, none of them easy or pleasant – it changed you. Jefferson knew every exit. The Looking Glass had been his specialty, its magic connected directly to the magic of his hat, and he had used it more times than he cared to remember. Then there was the Rabbit Hole…known only to him, the White Rabbit, and her. And of course, there were the special prisoners, the ones that didn't have to escape. They were the political poker cards of the Queen of Hearts, the ones she traded to get what she wanted. Belle had been one of those prisoners, just like her…

"What did I do?" she asked him, the tears long dried and her bravery defending her honourably despite her reddened eyes and the quiver beneath her voice.

"Nothing," Jefferson replied, patting her hair as she lay with her head cradled in his lap. How he loved Belle, the only person alive who understood the things that made his mind twitch and the nightmares continue long after he woke screaming. It drove Rumpelstiltskin mad when they whispered away in the strange language of Wonderland. He'd growl and stomp around the enormous house, grumbling about sharing his domain with a madman. It delighted Jefferson. He was glad to see that precious Belle was so loved, so jealously guarded. Once upon a time, he had loved someone like that too. He wondered if he could ever love like that again, but the idea made him think too much of Wonderland and he stomped it out quickly before it caught fire in his mind.

"You lacked judgement in your heart," Jefferson continued, "and yet possessed it in your senses. You saw beyond the monster and forced him to see beyond it too. Even the most noble and true of people could only hope to be what you are. And you will pay for it to his enemies."

"You've suffered more than I," Belle said apologetically. It was true, Jefferson thought, he had. Belle hadn't suffered the torments and madness of Wonderland like he had, she hadn't been subject to the cruel pleasures of its Queen. Beauty and the Beast had found each other, and one day soon they would find Baelfire too. But his Grace lived in brighter places with the Saviour and her son, and Snow White of course. She was safe and protected by all the good guys…because he had frightened her. The twitching, confounding thought processes and vacant stares of his madness had frightened his precious girl. From time to time, he visited her and she was always glad to see him. They'd have their tea parties and talk about this-and-that's for hours before Belle (there was no way any of the good guys would allow Mr Gold to set foot in their real-world kingdom, now that really WOULD be madness!) would arrive to gently place her hand on his shoulder and lead him out of the mansion that had once been his. He had given it to Snow White and Prince Charming when the curse had been broken, determined that it would be his prison no longer, and promptly taken up residence with Belle and Mr Gold. The bright people fought against the Queen and her army of darkness for all that was good, for happily ever after. But they fought her because they – Gold and Jefferson – were the only ones that really could. He didn't want Grace to be afraid, and Snow White had been kind to him. It was better that Grace live in the light with all the beautiful, shiny ones where she would be safe and protected by the Saviour, not in the line of fire with her broken father and tainted friends.

"Wonderland touches you," Jefferson trailed, his voice hollow with disturbance and memory, "whether one day or one hundred years, whether you lose your head or keep it, Wonderland touches you. Digs her claws in deep and never lets you go. It isn't a question of who suffered more. You know that. You understand."

"Never?" Belle asked, deeper questions than the one she had asked breathing beneath her words. Jefferson's eyes flicked from her to the roof, back to her and then looked out through the window. It was growing light in the sky, a golden hue brimming on the dark horizon. It was like the curse, only faster, all the light penetrating the lingering shadows of the night. He wished dawn would come to the curse a little quicker. All of this, this, this place! With its senseless rationalities and _modern_ living. Ah! He couldn't stand it! It was madness! People put tea in little material bags for goodness sake! Or worse yet…they drank coffee. Jefferson wanted to go home to his forest cottage and teapot.

"I have only ever known of one prisoner to escape Wonderland," he answered, his voice low and avoidant. Belle watched the toes of his boots prod and scuff at the carpeted floor nervously. Poor Jefferson.

"Alice?" she asked cautiously. He flinched at the mention of the name. Alice had been one of the special prisoners, like Belle. Good thing, Jefferson had thought, her head was so pretty perfectly attached to her lovely, scar-less neck. He had met her accidently during one of his comings-and-goings for the Queen, no Regina. She wasn't his queen. To him, there was only one 'the Queen' and she terrified him more than Regina ever could. The pretty golden haired girl had been wandering aimlessly through Wonderland, not yet its captive, when she had stumbled upon one of his social tea gatherings with the White Rabbit and his cousin, March Hare. Jefferson didn't believe in love at first sight – that was crazy – but if he had, he was sure that's what he'd felt. The girl from a land he didn't know (and that in itself was amazing) had discovered a portal in and out of Wonderland, one that rivalled even his own. A rabbit hole. Very quickly, Jefferson found himself coming to Wonderland more and more often, even when business didn't call for it. They met beneath the Caterpillar's Mushroom each time and roamed the land hand-in-hand, its intrigues delightfully dizzying in time to shy smiles and fleeting kisses and the odd cup of tea. He had never loved anyone more.

It had been the Cheshire Cat that betrayed her, giving up the location of the Rabbit Hole to the Queen of Hearts. They had been waiting for her, and so had Jefferson, only he had been somewhere else standing alone in a cloud smoke beneath the Caterpillar's Mushroom, waiting. Alice had never come. By the time he knew what had become of her, it was already too late. Her crime – according to the Queen of Hearts – had been severe, and though she would have loved nothing more than to do off with Alice's pretty head, she had learnt of her value. Her troublesome adversary, Queen of the Faraway Land, had a spy and a thief operating in Wonderland, and he had been foolish enough to let himself fall in love with this girl. The Queen knew that Regina could not be bribed, bought or manipulated, not even with her own father, but perhaps her agent could. She held Alice's heart over Jefferson for months, and without a second thought, he obeyed her every whim…even when that whim had been to cut off the head of the White Rabbit for concealing the portal beneath his burrow home. But when the Queen of Hearts had learnt that Alice was carrying his unborn child, her cruelty became divine. She made Jefferson choose: his love or his daughter. It had been an impossible decision, but Alice had made it for him. With tears in her deep blue eyes, Alice had held onto Jefferson and promised that she would never forgive him if he chose her over their Grace.

"How am I to let you go?" he had wept into her sweet scented hair, clutching and gripping her desperately. He felt her place something small and warm into his coat pocket, and when he looked he saw something that frightened him. Alice wiped away her tears.

"You must," she whispered, "take Grace and run. Get as far away from Wonderland as you can. And Jefferson…I beg you, don't let me stay awake."

With that, she had pressed her tender, pink lips to his, kissing him gently one last time. The next day, they had come for them both. The Queen's footmen had forced Jefferson to his knees on her execution floor, grasping a handful of his tangled brown hair to hold his head up, forcing him to watch. Alice stood before him in chains, tears streaming down her cheeks silently, bravely. Their eyes locked together, blue on blue, as the executioner raised his axe.

"I love you," Alice had whispered so lightly that only he had heard it. He screamed, begged and fought, though it was no use as the Queen of Hearts gave the order in her hollow echo of a voice…_off with her head_. Jefferson had cried out his anguish as the axe swung, and suddenly, too quickly, his Alice as no more. As soon as he was free of the Queen and her soldiers, Jefferson gathered up his infant daughter and ran faster than he had ever run in all his life, not to the Looking Glass, but to the Rabbit Hole. He had passed through alone, there was no way for both he and Grace to return via his usual route. He would have to get to the Hall of Doorways by Alice's path and then take his daughter through the hat portal to his home in the Faraway Land. And that is exactly what Jefferson did.

Queen Regina had not been happy with him leaving her service. But as soon as he had stepped through that portal and out of the hat with Grace in his arms, he remembered. Slipping his hand into his coat pocket, he retrieved the stolen treasure Alice had placed there. Her heart, no longer beating. Jefferson wept tears of both agony and relief. Alice was dead, but at least she slept peacefully, a prisoner of Wonderland no longer. The Queen of Hearts would never torment her again. He had held his baby girl close to his chest, his love for her the only reason he could find to live on, and he remembered what Alice had made him promise: _Protect her and never leave her_, _always do what is best for Grace._ Though it meant losing his wealth and all he had in this land, Jefferson knew that working for the Queen had made him a target and gotten Alice killed, he wouldn't risk his daughter too. And so began his simple, but happy life not as a sorcerer-hatter, but as a father.

Belle waited for Jefferson to answer, but she could tell that he was lost in his own mind. She scolded herself quietly, knowing she should never have mentioned Alice to him. Sometimes, especially when she saw him with Mr Gold, she forgot how fragile Jefferson really was. His power was great, and there were times he disappeared into his hat for weeks on end. Other times, she would linger quietly in the hallway, listening to him speak of his magic and travels to Mr Gold as he sat turning the wheel that had only just begun spinning straw into gold again, listening. It was those nights, quietly as she lay tucked up close in the safety of his arms, that Mr Gold would confess to Belle that he shouldn't envy Jefferson for seeking out her comfort and understanding, for he could see the tremors and quakes of Wonderland that fractured his mind. He had told her his relief that the twisted land had not left such a mark on her. Belle considered this, wondering if perhaps Mr Gold had been wrong about that. She had lost her heart, after all. But Jefferson had lost everything, even his mind.

"Some things are worse than being alone and forgotten," Belle murmured, not sure if she spoke to him or herself. He glanced down at her with sapphire eyes, questioning.

"You've never been invisible, Belle, not since the moment we first met deep in that wretched hell of a place," Jefferson told her sincerely, "you've been my friend and my sister in ways that no one who hasn't been held captive there can understand. We lead each other, guided each other through the dark. You may belong to Rumpelstiltskin if that is what you choose, but I will always see you. I will always remember you."

Her eyes shone with understanding as she considered him. Jefferson's words had touched her. She recalled the day he had broken into her cell beneath the hospital, that dank and pitiful room Regina had kept her in for 28 unchanging years. Though she had no memory of the tall, dark man who instructed her firmly to find Mr Gold, she immediately felt calm in his presence, as though a light had been switched on in the dark. Belle reached up to touch his hair, glad that it as growing back into the long, waving tangles she remembered from Wonderland.

"You are my brother," she promised, "and I will always see you too."

Belle sat up and pressed a light kiss on Jefferson's cheek before embracing him warmly. How strange her kindness and her touch felt to him, and he knew she understood that. She had been shut away, in Wonderland and here, with no one to show her love or affection. And he had been forced to live alone and remember and watch as everyone else forgot, after years and years of torment in Wonderland, unable to touch or even talk to anyone. He knew Belle understood what it meant to be shown something as simple as a moment of affection, and deeper things too, like connection to someone who knew the things he had endured and felt. Sometimes, he did wonder if Rumpelstiltskin understood in some way too. But even if he did, he'd never admit to it let alone show it. With a gentle smile, Belle patted his arm and slipped away towards the library where he knew she would rummage through the endless collection of books until she felt better. Jefferson returned her smile as she went.

He sat for a moment, considering Belle and Alice and Grace, and how much he would adore a nice cup of tea. But he sensed the presence in the shadows of his room quite some time ago and knew that they had been thinking the same thing, almost since the moment they had first made the discovery deep in the Queen's underground vaults. They had been hindered by an unexpected curse that protected the collection of little wooden boxes, and Rumpelstiltskin had not yet regained the full strength of his magic. Oh, how slowly this damned curse was breaking, Jefferson thought. Mr Gold stepped out of the shadows towards him, their eyes meeting in a gaze of mutual understanding and determination.

"You know what I want?" Mr Gold asked firmly. Jefferson nodded once, slowly.

"I can get it," he assured, "but can you restore it?"

A shadow passed over Mr Gold's face, and Jefferson knew he could. But there would be consequences. There always was. All magic came with a price. But what was it hiding under the surface that only the fiend himself understood? Jefferson wracked his fractured mind for the elusive answer.

"Just get me her heart," Gold demanded gruffly, stepping around his walking cane and the questioning expression on Jefferson's face, leaving the room swiftly without a backwards glance. Ah, Jefferson thought, guilt. And in an instant, he knew.

**4.**

"You've always said that magic is power," Belle had said to him, the resolute expression that indicated a battle fixed on her face, "well I'm tired of being powerless."

"You're not powerless," Mr Gold had responded, refusing to meet her eyes, "I protect you."

"I want my own power," Belle had insisted firmly, "and I want my heart back."

For hours they had argued, and she had raised point after brutally valid point to crush his every objection. Even so, he would not give in. He was Rumpelstiltskin, he didn't need to be right to get his way. This time, his way did not include giving Belle a single drop of magic. Her heart would be restored, he'd see to that soon enough, and he was happy to let her dabble here and there with pieces of his own power, but that was it. Or so he had thought. As soon as it came at him, he knew he had lost.

"They come after me because of you," she had said quietly, no accusation in her eyes, only honesty, "and I so easily could have become just like Alice."

"Don't," Mr Gold warned.

"Why not?" Belle challenged angrily, "when will you acknowledge that I was there, in Wonderland? When will you admit that the Queen of Hearts could have used me against you any day, just as she did to Jefferson? Made you give her everything and then watch as she lopped off my head too?"

"I wouldn't have let that happen!" he contended, grasping her by the shoulders, his silent way of begging her to stop. But this time, Belle refused.

"You couldn't have stopped her," she whispered sadly, gently, her eyes softening as she saw him struggling to concede his own weakness, "she'd have made you give up your power or my life, and even then she probably would have killed us both."

In an instant, he knew she was right. Belle was his weakness, and they would keep coming for her to exploit it. There was fear that there would come a day when neither he nor Jefferson could protect her, and Rumpelstiltskin knew that he could not lose his Beauty again. At least this way, she would stand a chance in her own right…besides, part of him almost enjoyed the idea of Belle with magic. It would be directly connected to his own, and perhaps she would begin to understand why it held such an enduring grip over him. He smiled at her, pressing his fingers gently into her flesh before pulling her into his embrace.

"Thank you," she whispered against his ear, knowing he had agreed without saying a single word.

**5. **

The felt top hat lined with red silk rattled and spun on the floor of Rumpelstiltskin's spinning hall. The force of the portal opening made the bails of gold spun straw quiver, the shivers of each golden thread catching the light and sparkling brilliantly around them. Belle clasped Mr Gold's hand tightly and he glanced at her, sensing the uncertainty that dark magic had always caused in her. Jefferson shot him an accusing stare.

"Stand back," he warned solemnly, his eyes fixed on Mr Gold, "you know what to do. Picture it, what it is, where we were, where we saw it, as close and as in as much detail as you can recall. Do it. And do it properly."

Rumpelstiltskin glared at him, but Jefferson was resolute. The madman didn't care, he never did, he just said things as they were. This time, though, it was a dig. Jefferson meant that Mr Gold should consider what Belle's heart _really_ meant to him, and whether or not he should do what he planned to do. He had a mind to condense Jefferson's cells into little more than stuffed white rabbit. But alas, Belle would never forgive him. And perhaps, in some strange way that made him uncomfortable to think of, he might just miss the brooding lunatic. Just a little. But not particularly. Mr Gold shrugged off the thought and closed his eyes, he'd deal with Jefferson later. For now, he had a promise to keep to Belle.

"Carefully now…" Jefferson eased. He knew Rumpelstiltskin could feel it too, the pull of the hats magic and the way it threatened to swallow you whole. He didn't doubt that the infamous sorcerer could overcome it, but Jefferson had always felt that the hat deserved more subtlety than Rumpelstiltskin was capable of. For a sudden, shocking moment, he felt their minds connected and Jefferson saw Mr Gold's eyes spring open as he stumbled into memories and still open wounds from Wonderland. A combination of horrified sympathy flooded Gold's eyes as he stared at stony faced Jefferson.

"Let it go," Jefferson demanded, his eyes narrowing fiercely with warning, "even you don't want to look at that for too long."

Belle gasped, knowing what hypnotic terrors her lover beheld in Jefferson's mind. She looked to her dear friend pleadingly and he nodded a gesture with urgency in his eyes. Quickly, Belle threw her arms around Mr Gold and kissed him. His eyes closed again as the sensation of her love bought his mind back into focus. He felt the magic surge through him and almost knocked Jefferson into the wall slamming shut the door into his memories of Wonderland. Jefferson shook his head, the throttle of Rumpelstiltskin's power knocking his senses about.

"That wasn't exactly necessary," he grumbled, stalking back over to his hat, "now if you please, Mr Gold, stay focussed. That's enough Belle."

She pulled away from Mr Gold somewhat reluctantly, but his arm remained about her waist and he held her close to him. Jefferson nodded with approval as he watched Rumpelstiltskin lift Belle of her feet gently, laying his head over the place where her heart should have been. Belle had been right, the fiend was indeed learning. Jefferson wondered at that. He'd have to examine this in depth later. He wondered if a multiple choice survey was in order, or should he just ask Mr Gold over a cup of tea? This, he'd need to consider carefully, he thought.

"Good," Jefferson crooned, staring deep into the spinning hat as it began to glow and hum from within, "guide the hat. Almost there."

Slowly, precisely, he reached into the hat, feeling his way to where Rumpelstiltskin was leading him. Of course, Jefferson knew too. He had been there, standing beside the Dark One, when they had found the vault of hearts. He had seen something pulsate from it like a wave of energy and felt Mr Gold grasp onto his coat as it shot into him. Immediately, Jefferson had known…it had been the same for him when Alice had placed her stolen heart into his coat pocket that last day. His jaw had fallen open as he looked to the vault and disbelievingly breathed her name – _Belle_. Like magic, the box had slid forward and shown them what Jefferson had feared. And as they both remembered that moment, Jefferson felt the force of Rumpelstiltskin's power just as he had then. Anger, rage, guilt…all the things he had felt when Alice died and Grace forgot. But he couldn't think of them now, Belle needed him. Carefully, he reached into the wooden box and took her heart in his hand. He felt it ebb and flow, slipping in and out of his grasp until he finally had it. Quick as lightning, he pulled his arm back out of the hat, the portal snapping shut as he did. Belle clung to Mr Gold as she gazed at her heart in Jefferson's hand.

"Give it to me," Gold demanded from across the hall. Jefferson regarded him for a moment before retracting his arm, holding Belle's heart close to him protectively.

"No," he protested, gesturing at Belle to come towards him, "not until we discuss this nonsense."

"You wretched, mad creature!" Mr Gold hissed dangerously, "do as I say!"

"It would have been better manners to offer a deal," Jefferson taunted with a side-ways tilt of his head. Belle sighed with exasperation, stepping between them.

"Behave!" she commanded, "both of you."

She gestured for Jefferson to come to her, and he immediately took a step forward before flinching to reconsider a few times uncertainly. There was nothing he wouldn't do for those he cared for, even if it meant risking his own safety by approaching a vexed Rumpelstiltskin. Jefferson trusted Belle to protect him from her Beast. Mr Gold, on the other hand, was livid.

"No," he refused fiercely, eyes glinting with the shimmering metallic gold that Jefferson hated, "if you will have me do as you have requested, I will not be controlled at your whim for the sake of a mad man like him! He will do as I say, and so will you!"

Belle was hurt, but Jefferson laughed. He circled around and between them, each step purposefully laid and dramatic, the heart still nestled safely in his hand. Belle watched him sadly, certain that this time he would pay for his defiance severely, no matter how much she pleaded with Rumpelstiltskin to have mercy on him.

"You see what I mean?" Jefferson pointed out casually to Mr Gold, "you haven't even given her heart, let alone magic yet, and already it has bred darkness between you. This is a mistake, and I beg of you…Belle, I beg of you…please don't do this."

A tear rolled down her cheek as Belle considered Jefferson, her heart breaking for his selfless concern. Few people had ever cared so much for her, and even less for Rumpelstiltskin. Jefferson cared about them, he cared about them all. She stepped towards him, stopping to look into his melancholy eyes for a moment before stroking her hand against his cheek.

"Jefferson, my sweet friend," Belle whispered, "my dear, dear brother."

"You and he are the only family I have anymore," he cried softly, taking her hand, "and all those bright ones believe us as wicked as the Queen, even my Grace. Our only redeeming quality is you, Belle, with your lightness and smiles and swishing skirts. Swish, swish, swish."

Belle smiled as he imitated the sound of her dress sweeping against her ankles when she skipped or ran. She could hear the tap of Mr Gold's cane as he drew near, the rhythm steadier and lighter than it was when he was irritated. That, at least, was a relief. His hand slipped beneath her hair and rested gently on the back of her neck, his fingers losing themselves in her soft, mahogany tresses. How Belle loved him.

"And you," Jefferson said, turning his attention to Mr Gold, "I like you, even though I shouldn't."

"Jefferson, it's not as simple as that," Mr Gold explained, his voice low and measured, avoiding the compliment with his usual precision, "what if something happens to her? What if we lose her? I can't…"

"I did," Jefferson interrupted, "I did lose my Alice. There is not a day that passes that I don't wonder if there was more I could have done to save her, to protect her. She was just a girl and I had all my magic too. But then I think…if she had shared that, she wouldn't have been my Alice anymore. She'd have been more like me than the person who pulled me out of darkness and into her light. That's not what I wanted for my Alice, or for Grace. They wouldn't be worth saving if they weren't who they were."

"But…you lost them," Mr Gold reminded him, his words laced with question. Jefferson was rigid, holding tight to the anguish in his chest. Reaching out, he took Mr Gold's hand and carefully placed Belle's heart into it. His eyes were piercing, sharpened by insanity.

"Yes, I lost them," he admitted with steely honesty, "but I lost the people I fell in love with, not something fear of losing them turned them into. I am grateful for their presence in my life as I had it. You must find the courage to love selflessly, for if there were no risk of you ever losing Belle would you savour each moment of each day as much as you ought to? And you Belle, would you see yourself become like us, consumed by power and the price we pay for it? Could you stand to watch all the beautiful things you are fade away from his eyes when he looks at you as you become more and more like him? Don't you see? You are an anchor! You keep us from drifting away."

Belle looked from Jefferson to Mr Gold, surprised to find him already gazing at her. She smiled.

"Jefferson is right, Belle," he said, stroking her cheek and placing her heart in her own hands, "there are things I will never refuse you, but this is not one of them."

Her eyes widened as she looked upon her heart, beating rhythmically in her hand. Lifting her gaze to Mr Gold, she nodded her agreement. He smiled back at her, placing his hand over her heart as it lay on her palm. His eyes had turned brown again, flitting over her face tenderly as he leaned forward to press a kiss against her lips. Jefferson watched with a slight smile as the heart between their hands faded away, knowing that it had returned to where it should be. Everything would be alright now. Quietly, he spun on his heel and took silent steps out of the spinning hall, collecting his hat along the way. It was time for a hot cup of tea, and he supposed it was an appropriate moment to allow them some privacy…his friends. His family. Belle and Rumpelstiltskin. How carefully he'd have to watch them to ensure that they didn't make a complete mess of things. He wondered if there was truly enough tea in all of the worlds he knew for such a task!

"Oh well," he muttered to himself, "if the tea runs out, there won't be a world left worth saving."


End file.
